Poem of the Month
Ward Calls

By Deena Kara Shaffer

Published on March 1, 2014

First, post-diagnosis apology.
Next, a trained volunteer’s called in
to make the lonely wait less so.
Then, the oncologist comes armed
with a social worker, to talk it out, softly.

Noxity, necrosity, one node at a time,
less pink, less supple, less discrete:
the disease drone on a roll.

Near the end, calls out for the commode,
and a PSW to wipe;
Yelping Lactulose! for narcotic’s bind, Ativan for the fear.
Last, Haldol, for the verge,
and a priest to sing you there.

More Poetry

Group Therapy

Each of us, in turn, has to answer, in one word,
the question: What are you feeling?

In December no less, when it gets dark at four
and this classroom’s been double-booked.

Another band of politicized marginals
prowls restless in the corridor

The Kingdom Is

The kingdom is up to you. Like the manette the cashier hands you at the grocer’s — “your turn”; “c'est à vous.”

Magnetic Days

I’m on St-Zotique and St-Laurent in the cage on the east side of the street shooting baskets alone. Despite it ...